Quarantine
by MissJayne
Summary: An arguing Gibbs and Jenny end up in quarantine for a fortnight. Can they survive without dying of boredom or killing each other? Jibbs, companion piece to Volatility and Victory.
1. Prologue

_This is a companion piece to Volatility and Victory. You do not have to read that one to understand this one, although I hope you read both at once. Both stories are happening simultaneously. One chapter counts for one day and thus updates will be daily._

Quarantine

Chapter 1: Prologue

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was fed up of the inane squabbling between the members of his team. It was as though he was a kindergarten teacher, not a Special Agent with years of experience under his belt and a team of his own.

It was all Tony's fault. The agent still hadn't learnt that annoying a Mossad assassin was a bad move. While Ziva mused aloud on the most painful way to kill someone, McGee was trying to stay out of the way and Tony continued to wind her up. At the rate this was going, Ducky was going to be provided with a body to autopsy by the end of the day.

He wasn't in the mood to keep them in line either. Instead, he was trying to work out which one of them to kill first. Tony was currently top of his list, but Ziva was a close second and McGee had temporarily been on top after managing to simultaneously aggravate the other two.

Fed up with the constant bickering, he decided to go and visit Jenny. She wasn't in a good mood either, but there was a chance he could change that.

In between all their arguing, his team had somehow come up with a new suspect in their current case. Gibbs certainly didn't trust them to go and question the man themselves; in all probability, one of them would be dead before they even arrived. If he left them to their own devices in the squad room, he couldn't be blamed for any mess.

Still, he needed some form of backup. His old partner needed to spend some time away from her office. It made sense to drag her along.

Although it helped if they were talking. They had been arguing over the most stupid things recently. He wasn't sure what it was, but they couldn't seem to be in a room together without accusations flying.

Wondering if it was something in the air that was causing so many problems, Gibbs rose from his chair and headed towards the stairs. Perhaps he could talk to Abby about it later. She seemed to be the only one unaffected – even Ducky had been spotted snapping at Palmer.

With Cynthia nowhere to be seen, he barged directly into Jenny's office. It helped to catch her off guard sometimes.

As expected, she glared at him. "If we're picking up where we left off yesterday…" she warned.

"Nope," he replied.

"Because I am not dealing with the media if you've punched another reporter…" She seemed to realize his earlier answer. "Something I can help you with, Agent Gibbs?"

He tried not to wince. 'Agent Gibbs' meant he was in a lot of trouble. He did not plan to tell her why he'd punched the reporter – idiot that he was for suggesting that Jenny wasn't capable of doing her job because she was a woman. Fortunately, Jenny had missed the comment or he would be the one trying to limit the media damage.

"Richard Matheson," he told her. "Name's cropped up too many times in the Fenig case for it to be coincidence."

Jenny shook her head. "Never heard of him."

"Need a partner for the afternoon," he continued.

"You have a team for that," she pointed out. "I have paperwork."

It was his turn to shake his head. "Paperwork can wait. You used to enjoy going into the field."

She glared at him. "We arrest him and I come straight back," she offered.

"Deal," he answered.

* * *

Jennifer Shepard caught her old partner's eye as they stood either side of the front door.

She wasn't entirely sure why she had agreed to come along. Part of it was due to wanting to be out in the field again, but another part of her wanted them to stop fighting and get back to normal.

She did enjoy their usual playful banter, and she knew she had to chew him out as his boss sometimes. Nevertheless, they seemed to be fighting for the sake of fighting at the moment. She might want it to be over, but she didn't know where to start.

Providing him with backup was something, she supposed. The man needed backup, given how often he managed to end up in deep water on routine jobs. And if they were relying on each other, they couldn't kill the other in the process.

He nodded to her just before he kicked the door in. She rolled her eyes. Typical Jethro – announcing himself would take up far too much time for him.

She followed him into the house, quickly checking the rooms. Empty, empty, empty, empty…

"Jen," came the call.

After checking her final room, she headed towards his voice. "No sign of him," she called.

"I've got him."

She rounded the corner to find a body on the kitchen floor, Jethro standing nearby.

"Matheson?" she asked.

He nodded.

Richard Matheson was lying on his stomach, his head twisted to one side. His mouth was hidden by the sheer amount of blood that was around it. Without touching him, Jenny couldn't see any other signs of injury.

"Called Ducky?" she inquired.

"Might as well poke around first," he shrugged. "Matheson's not going anywhere."

She glanced over at the plate on the kitchen table. "Looks like he wasn't expecting anyone."

Gibbs was already examining the back door as carefully as he could without touching it. "Doors were locked," he noted.

"And there were no windows open when we arrived," Jenny recalled. "Natural death?"

Gibbs pointed at the blood around Matheson's mouth.

"Probably not a natural death," she agreed. "I've never seen a poison that works like this."

"Abby'll be able to identify it," he commented.

A noise from the direction of the front door caught her attention, and her hand reached for her gun. A glance across to Gibbs showed that he had also heard it.

She was not expected what rounded the door.

"CDC," announced the hazmat suited being. "How long have you been in here?"

"Less than five minutes," Jenny offered. "How long have you been outside?"

"We've only just arrived," the being answered. Jenny couldn't even guess as to whether she was talking to a man or a woman. "We have reason to believe that there is a biological hazard in this house and you may have been exposed."

"We've been here for less than five minutes," Gibbs pointed out.

"Be that as it may, we need to quarantine you for your own safety," came the reply.

"I am the Director of NCIS," Jenny began. "I have a lot of work to do. We haven't touched anything and we are not being quarantined."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, you could contaminate most of your agency before you dropped down dead at your desk," the being told her. "Both of you need to come with us."

Jenny groaned. She couldn't see a way out of this. As she and Gibbs followed the creature through the house, she could see other people in hazmat suits.

She was going to kill Jethro for this.


	2. Day One

Chapter 2: Day One

Jennifer Shepard did not stop her rant. She hadn't been as furious as this in a long time. Not since Gibbs had been flirting with a redheaded suspect while she herself was trying to go caffeine-free for a week.

And he was really in trouble this time. If he hadn't persuaded her to leave her paperwork behind and traipse after him into the field, she wouldn't be stuck in quarantine with him. He had a team for a reason!

Two weeks. She was going to have to put up with him for two whole weeks. In their infinite wisdom, the CDC doctors had decided that they would have to stay together for that time.

The room was tiny. The two single beds rested against opposite walls and there was barely enough spare to walk between the two. There was a small table in another corner, and the final corner had their toilet area. All that consisted of was a toilet and a sink with a little curtain around them for privacy.

The back wall, which the head of their beds rested against, was a mirror. They couldn't see out but anyone could see in. Privacy was impossible to obtain. The lights also never turned off, or if they did, they didn't have access to the switch. They had been informed that this was because they needed to be monitored at all times in case any symptoms emerged.

Not that they had been informed about what symptoms to expect if they were ill.

Her arm still hurt from the needles. The doctor had decided that she was to become a human pin cushion. She wasn't sure she had any blood left in her. And she hated needles. She didn't like them anywhere near her. It hadn't helped that the only familiar face in the room had been surrounded by as many doctors as she had been, meaning that she hadn't been able to see him.

All she wanted to do was go back home. She wanted to curl up in her own bed with a good book, not sit on top of a bed with sheets that made her itch and didn't keep her warm, with nothing to do but count the hours and rant at Jethro.

"Do you think I trust Agent Wofford in charge of my agency?" she continued, glaring at Gibbs. "For two weeks? I can guarantee that World War Three will break out and she won't know how to cope with it. Or Ziva will kill that guy in the evidence garage who keeps staring at her butt. Or Tony will be framed for murder again."

She glanced over at him. He was lying down on his bed with his eyes closed. She knew he wasn't asleep; his breathing would be more even.

"And Abby's got a court day coming up! She likes to get dressed in my office so I can help make sure that she's presentable and she can complain about everything. How is she going to manage?"

Even invoking the favorite didn't persuade him to open his eyes.

"This is all your fault. You should have left me in my office, not infected me with something. I don't even know if I _am _infected. Two weeks, Jethro! In case you haven't realized, women need privacy. Even a criminal gets more space than this in prison. I've half a mind to shoot my way out of here."

Her ranting was not having any effect. She had a funny feeling she was turning into Abby, simply talking at him and hoping he would answer at some point.

"Now I understand why they took my gun and my knife," she muttered.

He continued to ignore her.

"I wonder how many ways I can kill you without any weapons," she wondered aloud.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs continued to ignore his boss.

He understood that she was a little annoyed. Scratch that – she was more than a _little_ annoyed. If he wasn't sure that the doctors would come rushing in if she tried to kill him, he would be fearing for his safety. He might have taught her the basics, but she had been partnered with Ziva as well and he doubted they had spent all that time discussing their hair.

He was happy to leave her to rant though. She needed to vent her frustration, and anything he said would only make it worse. Three ex-wives had given him some experience with angry women. He vaguely wondered how long it would take her to bring the exes into this somehow.

At least he accepted this better than she did. He wouldn't be able to exercise more than a few push-ups on the floor between their beds, but he didn't mind the lack of privacy. Clearly, she felt differently on the subject.

Her voice washed over him as he continued to muse. What were they going to do for the duration of this? When Jenny calmed down, he planned to start thinking with her. She had always been the more creative out of the two of them.

His thoughts turned back to his team. With a bit of luck, they would survive Tony being in charge. They had managed for the time he was in Mexico and he couldn't see there being much of a problem now. Other than the rowing before he had left, but hopefully they would pull together.

Instead of listening to Jenny, he began to listen for the little things. The low hum of the AC. The pipes creaking slightly as water ran through them. The scratching of the cotton sheets as Jenny ran her fingers absentmindedly across them.

Her voice was beginning to sooth him, as much as he wanted to stick a pillow over her head until she shut up. Now that he wasn't paying attention to her words, he allowed the gentle melody to calm him.

As he fell into sleep, he briefly wondered how they were going to survive for the next thirteen days.


	3. Day Two

Chapter 3: Day Two

Jennifer Shepard continued to glare at the back of Gibbs' head. It wasn't as though she had anything better to do.

She couldn't be bothered to continue ranting at him. He would ignore her anyway. She had managed a little bit of restless sleep, although she hadn't been sure that it was night due to the constant light. If they would just turn the lights off, she might be able to sleep for a while longer.

Instead, she was sitting on her bed, in desperate need of sleep and with nothing to do. Gibbs had somehow managed to sleep for a good portion of the night, but he was able to sleep anywhere and at any time. Jenny dearly wished he would teach her the trick.

And now the boredom was starting to be replaced with something else. Worry. They had not seen anyone for a few hours and that person had not spoken to them, only bringing food. She had picked at the offering, not feeling hungry but aware it gave her something to do.

What she really wanted was to see a doctor. She wanted someone to tell her that she was not ill. The reality of being in quarantine was starting to hit her. For all she knew, she could be dying.

Although it had crossed her mind that dying would at least ease the boredom.

She was used to being busy. She was always dealing with paperwork or in a meeting or arguing with someone. When she was home, she would work in her study or try to relax. But having absolutely nothing to do was getting on her nerves.

And she wasn't talking to Gibbs either. It was still his fault that she was in this mess. If she found out she was ill and he wasn't, she was going to kill him.

He did not seem to be as bored as she was. He would either sleep or watch her. Although she found it discomforting when he observed her, she was aware that there was precious little else to do. She didn't want to start an argument over it.

Sometimes she wanted him to talk to her. Other times she wanted to be in a room on her own. And then she would remember that being completely alone would scare her more.

She didn't like the chance of her being ill. No one had told them what Matheson had been exposed to. She had always taken care of her health, even though she worked in a dangerous job. She worked out on a regular basis and ate well. And now she could be dying simply because she had walked into a house.

This wasn't how she wanted her life to end. She would prefer a firefight over a lingering death.

At least Jethro was with her. Her murderous impulses were slowly dying away. Although she didn't want to be weak in front of him, she knew he would look after her.

If he wasn't ill himself.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was bored out of his skull. He wanted something to do.

Jenny was now giving him the silent treatment. Initially he had enjoyed it. After a while, he wanted her to speak again. It felt strange that they were so close in the room and yet so far apart mentally.

He could see her mind working; she was worrying. He was tempted to try to comfort her, but he suspected she would retreat deeper into herself. He himself wasn't worried. There was nothing he could do to change the outcome, so why should he waste his energy worrying about it?

The hum of the AC had long since started to get on his nerves. It was loud and annoying, and it surely had to be possible to survive without it. Not that it was doing much good anyway; the cramped conditions combined with two people in close contact meant that the little room was boiling. He had removed the top half of the scrubs he had been forced to wear a few hours ago and had no plans to put it back on.

In that sense, he felt sorry for Jenny. It wasn't as though she could remove her scrubs, especially as they were under constant surveillance.

He watched as she shifted on her bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Briefly, he wondered if it was worth suggesting the floor to her. It might be hard but it had to be cooler. And he was willing to lend her his cotton sheets to rest on.

His eyes shifted to the intercom and he wondered just how bored the redhead was. Judging by the way her eyes were half closed, he guessed she needed to be entertained. If they started talking, it was only going to end in an argument and they were going to be stuck in close proximity regardless of whether they wanted to kill each other.

In one swift move, he slid off his bed and reached the intercom. It wasn't hard; the room was so small that he thought he would have been able to reach it with his foot.

"Anyone there?" he asked.

From the other bed, Jenny seemed to wake up. "What are you doing?" she demanded, evidently having forgotten that she wasn't supposed to be speaking to him.

"Go back to bed, Agent Gibbs," came the disembodied voice via the intercom.

"I want something to do," he stated. "Not fussed, but something I can do with my hands. Jen?"

She understood what he was trying to say. "I want a book. Any book."

"We don't want to bring anything in –" the voice began.

"We're going to die of boredom unless you give us something to do," Gibbs warned.

There was silence for a few minutes. "We'll bring something in," came the eventual reply.

It took twenty minutes; he counted every one of them. Neither of them spoke. Together, they watched the door and waited.

A hazmat-attired person finally entered and placed a large stack of paper and a selection of pens on the small table in the corner. Gibbs stared at it in disgust.

"That's it?" he demanded.

"Better than nothing," the person answered, already halfway out of the door. It appeared that someone had warned the medical personnel not to get on the wrong side of them, but Gibbs was too busy trying to work out what they could do with the paper.

Writing his last will and testament sounded like a good idea for the moment.


	4. Day Three

Chapter 4: Day Three

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was trying to work out if he could kill someone with paper.

They had started playing Hangman a few hours ago. It required little communication and it gave them a use for the paper. They had shifted the table so that it filled the gap between the two beds, with no room to spare.

And he had lost a disturbing number of times.

His one consolation was that they were somewhere private, if private meant an unknown number of people watching their every move in case they were ill. Those people hopefully couldn't see the score or that he had lost every game. She guessed his words in seconds and he could never figure hers out.

Although he had accused her of cheating by using the most complicated words she could think of. She had smirked and replied that at least she wasn't using medical words that Ducky had taught her.

It had been good to see some form of a smile on her face. She was a lot calmer than she had been on the first day, and now she seemed to be enjoying herself. He had wondered if this was due to the sheer boredom and she would be happy with anything, but he preferred to attribute the smile to his actions.

As he wrote down the requisite dashes to indicate his next word, he watched the expression on her face. She was completely focused on the task at hand, and she somehow looked cute at the same time. He was determined to keep the smile on her face.

"Quotation," she decided, not bothering with letters.

He passed the pen over to her, fairly sure that she had learnt how to read his mind. How else had she worked it out? In an attempt to test it, he wondered if he could break out of the room with only the paper and the pens.

"Not a chance," she warned, seemingly focused on working out her next word.

He stared at her. Either she knew him too well or Abby was going to have a field day.

Back in the day, they had made quite the team. They had not needed to speak to each other as looks were enough to convey the necessary information. They finished the other's sentences. It was just them against the world and he had loved it.

Now she was his boss, probably the only person who would ever be able to make him do something. She knew which buttons to press to force him to complete his paperwork and he knew which buttons to press to aggravate her. When they worked together, he knew that the old magic was still there.

Which was probably how she was still able to read his mind. The flip side was that he was able to predict most of her moves, although most of those seemed to involve paperwork nowadays. A pity given how good she was in the field.

He decided to make sure he picked something harmless for the next time he dragged her out of her office, before turning his thoughts to the puzzle she had set him. Nine letters…

* * *

Jennifer Shepard was mildly amused that she could win so easily. Especially as Gibbs used to beat her badly when they had played checkers in Serbia.

It wasn't as though he was deliberately losing to make her happy. He was clearly determined to win and he simply didn't get how to play the game. He bumbled along with random letters, not thinking to try the most common ones first. He didn't make links with particular groups of letters.

And his words were so easy to guess. He spent a long time trying to think up something clever, without realizing that she could read him like a book sometimes. She was half tempted to use the intercom and ask for a dictionary to make this more interesting.

She was bored, she had to confess. The boredom was suffocating. But she adored the way he was coming up with things to keep her occupied.

Hangman was only the latest game. It had started off with doodles before he had tried to explain Pictionary to her. It turned out that he did not understand the rules because Tony had been the one trying to teach him, meaning that they couldn't play. The doodling had started again, until he had suggested Hangman with such an eager expression on his face that she couldn't refuse him.

The arrival of the paper had clearly reduced some of the tension in the room. Instead of being left to worry about everything, they could distract themselves. In fact, Jenny couldn't remember being so happy in the last few months. A simple game with a good friend was amazing.

Even if they weren't supposed to be talking. She had given up pretending to be mad at him and was now acting as though the whole thing had never happened. He appeared to be following the same pattern. It was scary how well they knew each other.

And neither of them had apologized either. They each knew the words that would be quoted at them if they attempted an apology, and it wasn't worth the bother. Actions spoke louder than words after all.

She giggled as he stared at the piece of paper, glaring at it as though the paper would confess the word he was supposed to be working out. Jethro wasn't just competitive – he _had_ to win. He would do everything possible and more to succeed in whatever he wanted, whether it was a case or something else.

Although he wasn't taking his failure badly. He merely accepted that she had won and moved on. She wasn't sure if it was because it was her or if it was something else entirely. Normally, he went after anything he perceived as his failure like a dog with a bone. She was going to buy him a copy of Moby Dick for Christmas and make sure he read it cover to cover.

"B," he decided.

Resisting the urge to point out that B wasn't as common as he seemed to think it was, she began to construct a gallows. At the rate this was going, he was going to lose this game as well.


	5. Day Four

Chapter 5: Day Four

Leroy Jethro Gibbs groaned as the doctors walked into the room, their arms filled with all the instruments that were necessary to draw blood.

And possibly torture them as well. He hadn't failed to notice the paleness of Jenny's face when she caught sight of the needles. She hated needles and did everything possible to avoid them. He smiled softly at her before turning to glare at the hazmat suited doctors.

"Need to run more tests," one of them announced cheerfully.

Gibbs wondered if he had any blood left from the last time they had taken it. Surely they had enough? Or had some idiot knocked all the vials over?

Normally he didn't mind giving blood. It was something that had to be done and no amount of arguing was going to get him out of it. On the other hand, Jenny was clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

They were both starting to get bored of the other's company. They had tried talking to each other, but the conversation had petered out. Beyond cases – which they didn't know if they could discuss with unknown people observing them at all times – they weren't sure what to bring up. Paris was not a topic for discussion under the circumstances, and he wanted to avoid anything else that could potentially result in a fight. They were going to be stuck in this room for a long time and it helped if they didn't want to kill each other.

What they really needed was someone else to talk to. It didn't matter who that person was, but an extra person would take away some of the tension, or at least allow them to ignore it. And she had to be bored of his company by now. There used to be a time when they wanted the rest of the world to leave them alone.

Times had changed.

"Do we get a phone call?" he asked the being that was busy sticking a fourth needle in his arm.

The being ignored him. "Just a few more vials and we'll be done."

Gibbs silently counted eleven more vials. "Talking doesn't affect taking blood," he replied. "Phone call?"

"Ask Doctor Blevins," the being admitted, jerking its head in the direction of another being. "He's in charge."

"Blevins!" Gibbs called. He didn't need to shout given how small the room was.

The being came over and tutted at the look of him. "Taken his temperature yet?" came the query.

"That's next," replied the being who was busy sticking another needle into his arm.

"I'm hot because your air conditioning doesn't work," Gibbs warned. "Phone call."

Blevins shook his head. "We've informed your superiors and you don't have any family. Who would you want to contact?"

"Not me, her." Gibbs added a good glare. "She needs to talk to someone other than me."

Blevins glanced back at Jenny. Gibbs couldn't see the redhead through the crowd of hazmat beings.

"I'll see what I can do," came the reply. "It'll take some time."

"Before we leave would be a good idea," Gibbs warned.

By the time the doctors left, he had decided that he never wanted to see them again. He preferred being left alone for days on end than being poked in every orifice and having all his blood removed.

Although he realized that he would change his mind by tomorrow.

* * *

Jennifer Shepard did not want to be in the room for another minute.

She had gradually adjusted to the claustrophobic conditions. She had accepted that she was going to walk into everything possible whenever she got up to go to the toilet. She was even coming around to having unknown people stare at her for unknown amounts of time at unknown hours of the day and night.

The one thing she was not getting used to was being stuck with Jethro.

In one sense, he was a good roommate. They knew each other well and it wasn't as though they weren't used to spending time in close quarters, although it had been a long time ago. Neither of them had the need to fill the hours with inane chatter about anything and everything. He wasn't climbing up the walls in a bid to escape, they weren't arguing, and he was trying to come up with ways to keep her occupied.

But the time with nothing to do had led her to one inescapable conclusion. She was still in love with Jethro Gibbs.

She had recognized for a long time that she still cared for him, loved him even. Being in love with him was something that she did not want to deal with under these circumstances. She wanted to clear her head, but there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn't go for a long walk or work out her frustrations on a punching bag. Instead, she had to sit with him and pretend that nothing was wrong.

All she wanted was for everything to be over, for the two of them to be able to go back to their normal lives. She wanted to breathe fresh air and see sunlight, even if it was only through her office window.

The urge to demand a different room to him was building again. She didn't know why they had been stuck together to begin with. There had to be some regulation against mixed gender quarantine. When this was over, she was going to find out.

He was staring at her again. She couldn't meet his eyes, afraid that he would see straight through her. He had always told her that she expressed everything through her eyes, and he used to stare into them at times.

If it wasn't so hot, she was tempted to stick her head under her pillow and try to forget everything. As it was, she suspected she would suffocate or he would come over to remove it. Sometimes he was a little overprotective. She supposed she could mention him exposing her to something that could kill her next time he tried to insist that she couldn't slip her security detail.

All she had to do was survive the next ten days.


	6. Day Five

Chapter 6: Day Five

Jennifer Shepard grinned as she won another game of Hangman. Slowly but surely, her partner had learnt how to play and they were finally more evenly matched.

Though she was still winning overall. He couldn't come up with difficult words for her. She was tempted to allow him to use the few medical words they had learnt from Ducky to make the game more interesting.

They were starting to discuss things. Anything to keep them from falling asleep. She had spent the previous night hitting the AC in an attempt to force it to work, while he had lain in his bed and stared at her. It hadn't helped that it was situated above his bed so she had stood over him. She was fairly sure he had been staring at her butt for a good portion of time…

There had been no point in complaining. He had seen it all before anyway. And she could hardly ask him to swap beds while she attacked the AC. It had been more for show and frustration than anything else, in the hope that whoever was watching would take pity on them and send an engineer in. Gibbs could probably fix it himself if he was given the tools.

She was never going to take an AC for granted ever again. Why couldn't someone sort it out? She had spent a little while teaching Jethro how to make paper fans before they had tried to use them to move the air around. It hadn't made much difference, but she had felt better afterwards.

And it had killed some time. Everything was now about killing time. They did everything as slowly as possible. Jethro had decided to exercise to fill the hours, so she had watched before having her own go. Part of that had been down to the lack of space as well, but it had given her something to do.

Even if she had wanted a cold shower before he was even halfway through. Unfortunately they had no shower. She had been washing her hair in the tiny sink and cursing over the facilities.

She had already decided what she was going to do when she got out. Burning the scrubs she was wearing came first, followed by a very long shower and finally she would fall asleep in her own comfortable bed for a few weeks. Then she could claim her agency back and sort out all the problems that were sure to have accumulated in her absence.

She trusted Agent Wofford to look after her precious agency; nevertheless she was nervous. What if something went horribly wrong? Would she have an agency to go back to? What if the FBI decided to take over and Fornell was currently sitting in her office?

"You okay?" Jethro's voice drew her out of her thoughts.

She nodded. "Thinking."

"About?"

"What do you miss most?" she inquired, curious.

He looked at her for a moment. "My boat," he admitted.

She giggled. "You would. Not bourbon?"

He considered. "I can live without bourbon for a little while longer."

"And if they cut off our caffeine supply?" she teased.

"You'd kill them before I could," he grinned.

She chuckled. He was right.

"What do _you _miss most?" he asked, turning the question around.

"My cell phone," was her instantaneous answer.

He smirked.

"And chocolate," she continued. "I really want a bar."

He was clearly amused. "What would you do for a bar?"

"What would you do for your boat?" she shot back.

They continued to smile, each content for a short while.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs watched as the redhead slept.

She had obviously been in need of a nap, however much she had claimed that she was only doing it to pass the time. Her sleeping patterns, which had been bad before they had ended up here, had been knocked out of whack and she had barely been able to shut her eyes. If things didn't improve, he was planning on asking the doctors to sedate her.

She had always looked so peaceful when she slept, and it was no different now. All her fears and worries were gone. It just made everything harder for him.

However much he wanted to hate her for breaking his heart in Paris, he couldn't. She had been the only woman who had come close to healing him after Shannon, and she had done more besides. He had fallen head over heels for her. When she had left, he had despaired.

And now she was back in his life, their roles reversed. She was the boss and he was the subordinate, and he knew things could never go back to the way they were.

Being so close to her in this position was intoxicating. Her familiar scent filled the air every second of the day. He could barely take his eyes off her; there was nothing to do but watch her. Her every move drove him crazy. When the doctors had come to take more blood, he had wanted to sit next to her and provide comfort, knowing that she needed it.

Although she would have refused it. She was independent and stubborn as a mule. Changing her mind had been easier when they were in Europe. Now she simply glared at him.

Her words continued to ring in his mind – no off the job. Yet some of their actions implied otherwise. He brought her dinner when she was working late in her office. Every now and then she would visit his basement and they would sand his boat together. He still borrowed her for stakeouts, although she tended to fall asleep in the car and he would watch her breathe.

She shifted slightly, catching his attention. Then she shifted again and again…

He recognized the movements. She was in the beginning of a nightmare. He slipped off his bed and over to hers, shaking her arm gently.

"Jen. Jen," he called. "Wake up."

She seemed to settle down. Not wanting to leave her alone for the moment, he reached back to his bed and pulled his pillow over. If the nightmare came back, he would be ready for it.


	7. Day Six

Chapter 7: Day Six

Leroy Jethro Gibbs decided that silence was deafening. They had stopped talking again and it was all his fault.

Jenny had woken up the previous day to find him watching over her, still sitting on her bed. It was obvious that she felt uncomfortable so he had left her alone. He hadn't counted on her ignoring him as much as possible ever since, trying to pretend that he wasn't present any more.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. He had only been trying to soothe her through her nightmare and he hadn't left her side. It appeared that she had taken it to be something else and was now blanking him.

This couldn't go on. Unless they were communicating, there was nothing to do. She had taken the paper and was busy scribbling doodles on it, and he did not plan to ask her to hand any over. He wasn't sure if she would kill him or pretend she hadn't heard him. Either one would be painful.

All he could do was to wait for her to calm down and come to her senses. He had a horrible feeling that her redheaded temper would continue to flare for a while. He wasn't sure exactly how he had aggravated her, but didn't plan to ask. Women were strange creatures and this particular one had no qualms about killing him and disposing of his body.

Sooner or later she would want to talk again. She would be willing to bury the hatchet. She would come out of whatever funk she was in and forgive him.

He was hoping it would be sooner. There was only so much sitting in silence he could handle.

He felt awkward around her. She had always been able to read him like a book and he was afraid that she could work out how he felt about her. It didn't help that they were stuck together in such tight quarters with nowhere to go when they needed space.

What he wanted was a few hours to himself. He didn't mind if he had something to do or not – the solitude would help him. He didn't build boats in his basement so that he could sail on them.

Not that he had a chance of vanishing anywhere. The doctors had yet to sort out Jenny's phone call and he had deliberately not mentioned his idea to her, not daring to raise her hopes. He wanted her to be surprised when it was finally sorted out.

And he wanted to see her smile again.

Her smile could light up the darkest parts of his heart. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. Making her smile had been an amusing pastime in Europe, among other things. Since becoming Director, he had not seen her smile anywhere near as often and he was determined to rectify it.

Now seemed a good time to start. Especially in their current situation.

If only she would talk to him. He could sort everything out if she stopped being so stubborn. He was sorely tempted to give her a headslap and damn the consequences.

* * *

Jennifer Shepard watched as her roommate fell asleep again.

He had been sleeping a lot recently. Ever since she had stopped talking to him, he had been closing his eyes whenever he could to sleep the time away. She wished she could join him.

It was his fault for the silence. She had woken up to find him sitting directly beside her, his left hand running lightly up and down her arm. For an all too brief moment it had reminded her of what they used to have, until she had come to her senses and pushed him away.

Things couldn't go back to the way they had been. She was now his boss and he didn't care for her. Too much time had passed and she needed to accept it. Moving on was the best thing she could do.

So why was it so difficult?

Her mind had been in turmoil ever since she had realized that she was still in love with him. His almost certainly unconscious actions had hurt her and she wanted to be left alone to figure out what to do. There were so many reasons that they couldn't be together.

To pass the time and in an attempt to calm her down, she had started a list of reasons why she should and shouldn't tell him how she felt. The cons were easy: three ex-wives, a stubborn pain in the backside, SECNAV would have a heart attack – although she wasn't sure if that was necessarily a bad thing – he could reject her, it could destroy their already fragile relationship…

The positive side had only one thing noted down. _If he feels the same way, we could be happy_.

She had already folded the piece of paper into as many pieces as possible, determined that he would never see it. Unfortunately, there were few hiding places in their cell. She didn't want to block the toilet if she attempted to flush it away – she didn't think she could cope if something went wrong with the plumbing.

Eating it was also out of the question. Her only remaining option was to push it down the side of her bed and hope no one found it.

She forced herself to remain angry at him. Being angry was better than having to think about her feelings. It gave her something to do as well. Something more exciting than winning Hangman again.

His steady breathing began to calm her down. It was comforting to know that she wasn't alone in the world, even though it felt as though they were the only people left. A long time ago, she had whiled away the hours by watching him sleep. The rise and fall of his chest had been mesmerizing, and it still was.

Realizing that she couldn't remain angry for too much longer, she stood up and took the few steps necessary to reach the intercom. Hangman was not something she could stand for much longer.

"Hello?" she tried.

It took a few minutes, but someone eventually replied. "Director Shepard?"

"I want a chessboard."


	8. Day Seven

Chapter 8: Day Seven

Jennifer Shepard placed the chess pieces back in their starting positions, trying to hold onto the last fragments of her temper.

She had originally not told Jethro about her request, nor had she informed him when it had arrived. If he chose to sleep, she didn't have to tell him what happened during those hours. She had asked for the game for her, intending only to produce it when she was on the verge of a mental breakdown over their only other game.

The boredom had got to her first. The endless silence and the sheer awkwardness of it all had combined to force her to ask him if he wanted to play chess. From the look on his face, she suspected that he had never played a game.

And now she was trying to teach the complicated nuances of chess to someone who had taken three days to get the hang of checkers. She didn't know why she was bothering.

Her mind cleared for long enough for her to remember. She needed something to do and it would pass the time. If he had known how to play, she would be bemoaning the chance to waste half a day or more. He would get the hang of it soon enough, she hoped.

Sometimes she wondered what he did; he was so cut off from the world. He knew more about movies than he let on, although they tended to be older movies and he kept his mouth shut because Tony blathered on about everything too much already. But his TV was the most basic model she had ever seen – though it was color, shockingly – and he had no concept of a DVD player. She was tempted to buy him one for his next birthday.

Even if she guessed he would smile to her face and get rid of it as soon as possible. He had no use for it. All he did in his spare time was work on his boat and drink bourbon. He needed to get a life.

She was one to talk. Her life consisted of paperwork, meetings, paperwork, conferences, more paperwork and yet more paperwork. It was only interrupted by Jethro's latest stunt and her phone ringing off the hook with the SECNAV and everyone else demanding that she sort it out.

He might complain that she interfered with his cases, but she enjoyed getting out from her office for a while. A small part of her wanted to go back into the field again, before she remembered that she was of better use behind a desk.

She wished she had never left her desk when he had asked her to. If she had refused or stalled him for a little longer, the CDC would have entered the house first and cordoned it off before they had become exposed.

She doubted they were ill. They might not have been told the symptoms, but both of them seemed fine. She knew they would have to remain for a while longer, in case whatever it was took its time to appear, but she felt they were in the clear.

She wished the doctors had been more forthcoming over what they had been exposed to, but she couldn't have everything.

All they had to do was survive each other.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs watched the sparkle in Jenny's eyes grow.

He had been surprised when she had suddenly announced that she had procured a chessboard. It had made him vow to stop sleeping so much. Clearly he was missing out on things.

It was making a nice change from Hangman. For starters, he had the opportunity to win. If he had lost the word game again, he would have snapped. Then again, he wasn't sure if he would have continued playing to keep her occupied. If she was happy, he was happy.

And she was definitely happy now. There was a twinkle in her eye that he had not seen for a long time. She was determined to teach him how to play and how to play well. He knew they could play against each other for a long while before boredom set in. Chess was a meeting of the minds, not trying to come up with a word and leaving it to the other person to guess what it was.

He suspected she was a good player. For now, she was taking things slowly, making sure that he understood everything she had told him before moving onto the next part. It felt strange to allow her to teach him, but she knew what she was doing.

Even if she was getting a little frustrated at his speed. He wanted to take his time for the moment. There was no need to rush; they had at least another week in each other's company. Time would continue to crawl and they did not need to race it.

"I think you've got it," she informed him. "Do you want to try playing a game?"

"Go on then," he replied, watching as she reset the board.

He watched her first few moves carefully, allowing himself as much time as he needed to make his next move. She seemed to have realized that she might as well slow down, and he amused himself by watching her as well as the board.

Her face was scrunched up in concentration as she plotted her strategy. There was a gleam in her eye that warned she wanted to win. He was tempted to give her the win simply so that he could observe her victory. She had always been competitive.

But at the same time, he wanted to win as well. She needed to learn that she couldn't always win, and she had too much power in their relationship already. He had been losing at Hangman for days; this was revenge.

Planning his every move as though it was a real war, he gradually began to take control. She was no pushover; she fought back with everything she had. But it wasn't enough.

He moved his castle to claim victory and leant back on his bed.

She glanced up at him. "How did you… It took you three days to get the hang of checkers!" she pointed out.

He smirked.

She began to smile as well. "You already knew how to play! Right, I'm going to win this time."


	9. Day Eight

Chapter 9: Day Eight

Jennifer Shepard groaned as her partner took her queen. He was a lot better at chess than he had originally let on.

Part of her was enjoying the challenge of it all. She couldn't read him like this; he was deliberately keeping things from her as they played. They didn't need to talk about nonsense – everything was done in silence with the odd growl when one of them felt they were doing badly.

She knew she wasn't the best chess player, but she enjoyed the tactics she had to employ on the board. Chess wasn't a random game of chance; it required effort and concentration. Skill also came into it, and it was something Jethro definitely had.

She had spent a few hours wondering who had tortured themselves by teaching him the game. Ducky had been her first thought, given how patient the man was. Abby had also been an option. The Goth was always on the lookout for ways to broaden Gibbs' horizons and she enjoyed a challenge.

It was interesting how they both played. She planned everything thoroughly and tried to work out his next move. He bided his time before destroying her completely. One minute she would feel as though she was winning, and the next she would be minus half her pieces and in checkmate.

However much she disliked losing, she was enjoying herself more than she had done in days. They were fairly evenly matched and they had the same level of competitiveness. He was attempting to get revenge for her winning every game of Hangman and she was determined to win at this game as well.

Although she was losing overall. He knew her weak spots and was ruthlessly exploiting them.

She didn't think he had any real weak spots, apart from following his damn gut. There were several times she had seen him reach for a piece, before freezing and reconsidering, and eventually going for something else. He had no game strategy other than to win and win well. He wasn't about to let anything stop him.

It reminded her of the way he worked in the field. His determination and doggedness were legendary and he hated losing. He would do everything in his power and then some to make sure that he won in the end. All he did was follow his gut into trouble. It might serve him well, but she worried about him.

It was hard not to worry about him. He willingly walked into danger, even when he had no need to. He didn't seem to care if he ended up in the Emergency Room, and he frequently told that doctors this in a very loud voice. She was fond of Abby's idea that he thought he was Superman – he thought no one could hurt him.

However many scars he had to disprove that.

She smirked as she managed to take his queen in revenge. She was going to beat him this time.

However much the glimmer in his eye suggested he had a trick up his sleeve.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs stifled a groan as the hazmat beings entered their room again. How much more blood did they need?

Try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to think of them as doctors. Doctors wore white coats and smiled a lot. These beings moved as though they were swimming in treacle and gave no reassurances. Even seeing their faces through the masks was difficult. And doctors would be concerned about their mental health as well.

Being trapped in the same tiny room for eight days was getting on his nerves. Jenny was the only thing keeping him sane. At the same time, she was also driving him insane. It was a Catch-22.

His mind had finally cottoned on to the doctors collecting blood every four days. Did they think whatever they had been exposed to was incubating in them? He was starting to wish that he'd paid more attention to Ducky when his friend talked about contagious diseases. At least he might have a clue as to what was going on around here.

He held out his arm and forced himself not to wince when the needle was jabbed in. Once again, he was unable to see Jenny through the sea of hazmat beings between them. It wasn't as though he could cross the room through the crowd to be by her side.

Surely the doctors didn't need to race through the procedure. The third vial was in now and it seemed as though they had only arrived a moment ago. And why did they need so many people? The AC was still being useless and thus the occupants of the room needed to be kept to a minimum. A crowd was simply heating the room up to even more unbearable levels.

Staring at the being who was sticking yet another vial in, he recognized the face. "Blevins," he greeted the man in charge.

"How are you feeling today, Agent Gibbs?" came the reply.

"In need of a phone call," Gibbs reminded him. "For Jenny."

"As I told you before, it's going to take some time to sort everything out," Blevins answered, playing with his instruments of torture. "Be patient."

"You've had four days to sort it out," Gibbs pointed out. "Hurry up about it."

Blevins tutted as he removed the needle. "You do not understand the situation."

"I understand how easy it is to stick a phone in a room," Gibbs retorted.

When they left, Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief. Jenny merely looked tired.

"Go to sleep," he advised her. "We can play chess later."

She nodded, curling up into her bed and ignoring the cotton covers as she had done for the past few nights. He watched as her breathing slowed and her body began to relax.

Silently, he slipped off his bed and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And it was only when he reached his own bed again that he realized she hadn't been fully asleep.


	10. Day Nine

Chapter 10: Day Nine

Jennifer Shepard left the chess set alone. She was too confused to think about something as mundane as a game.

He had kissed her. Admittedly it had only been a kiss to her forehead, but it had sent her thoughts into turmoil. She had no idea what he meant by it.

Had it been a friendly gesture? After all, he had advised her to get some sleep when the evil doctors with their implements of torture had finally left her alone. She had been so tense and nervous that a nap had been the best option. He had been looking out for her since they had ended up in this room, trying to find little ways to keep her happy. The kiss could have simply meant that he was wishing for her to have sweet dreams.

Or had it meant something else? When they had been in Europe, he had often placed a soft kiss to her head as she fell asleep. It had been his way of saying that he would be there when she woke up. She had always fallen asleep feeling safe and protected.

She wanted for it to mean something else but she was afraid to hope. He was her best friend, the friend who knew exactly what to do in every situation. He knew how to soothe her when she was worried and how to cheer her up when she'd had a long day. He knew what she liked and disliked, and was willing to put up with something that he wasn't fond of to make her happy. The last thing she wanted to do was push him away.

Asking him what it had meant was out of the question. There was nowhere for her to run if he said it was a friendly gesture. If he broke her heart, she would have to sit in the same tiny room as him for the next five days and pretend that everything was okay. It wasn't as if she could retreat to her own house and find solace in bourbon and work.

She couldn't ask him and she couldn't figure it out. Her head was spinning with thoughts, hopes and fears. She needed someone else to talk to. Anyone would do, even one of the doctors in a pinch. If she had been at the Navy Yard, Ducky would have lent her an ear and some friendly advice, Ziva would have threatened to torture the information out of Gibbs and Abby would have smothered her in a hug.

Thus she was left to sit in silence with the man she loved and her thoughts for company. Gibbs too was silent, as though he knew what he had reduced her to. He wasn't looking at her for once, his eyes focusing on the chess pieces as though he was playing a game in his head.

She wanted to shout at him, to demand that he told her the truth. She wanted to shake him until he admitted everything. And yet she knew she wouldn't be able to take it if he turned her down. If they had been anywhere else, she would at least have the option of being alone for a while.

Here, she was left to suffer.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. Why had he allowed himself to give in to his thoughts and kiss her?

She meant the world to him, but he was confident that she didn't feel the same way about him. She had left him behind to further her career and she had never looked back. He had nursed a broken heart for a long time, and he only really begun to get over her when she had waltzed back in his life as though nothing had changed.

Except it had. She was now his boss, the person that chewed him out every time he did something that he wasn't supposed to but would save lives or bring a killer to justice. He knew it wasn't personal – no matter who his boss was, they would have to yell at him – but their arguments had a tendency of turning petty. They knew which buttons to push and when to push them.

Try as he might to get her out of his head and heart, he knew that it was impossible. She had burrowed her way in a long time ago and he wasn't sure he wanted her to leave. In one sense, she was the perfect woman for him – she was as stubborn as he was, she kept him on his toes and she amused the hell out of him.

He did not believe in soulmates. It was a fluffy romantic concept that women liked to believe in. When he had lost Shannon and Kelly, he had lost his faith in the world. He had firmly held for years that Shannon had been his soulmate.

Until Jenny had come along.

He had struggled with his feelings for her at first. They had crept up on him and blindsided him one day. He had felt he was betraying Shannon, until he had decided that she would have wanted him to be happy. Soulmates did not exist, for how could a man have two of them?

He had spoilt everything between them now. She had looked so adorable as she was drifting off that he couldn't resist pressing his lips to her forehead. It had reminded him of a time long ago when they had nothing but each other, a time when he would have done anything for her.

If she ever knew that he was still in love with her, he knew it would destroy their friendship. He definitely couldn't accept that. She was the one who kept him sane, the one who knew when to push him to open up and when to leave him alone, the one who knew how to heal the hurt even when she seemed unsure.

He wanted to talk to her again, but he wasn't sure he could do so without blurting out his feelings for her. Judging by the way she was refusing to look at him, he suspected she was not happy with his actions. The chess pieces were the only thing he could focus on for the moment.

He wasn't sure how much longer the standoff would last, but he had a horrible feeling it could be for days.


	11. Day Ten

Chapter 11: Day Ten

Jennifer Shepard couldn't believe she was so bored again. The chess pieces lay to one side, long since forgotten in the sea of awkwardness that surrounded them after the kiss. All she wanted to do was forget about it and move on, something which would hopefully involve a game of chess.

She was on the verge of asking him to play anyway. It would give her something to do instead of turning things over and over in her mind. She had the option of forgetting everything and focusing on kicking his butt.

Yet she couldn't open her mouth and ask. She couldn't push herself off the wall behind her bed and reach for the pieces. She wasn't sure that she had the energy for anything except thinking. Her body did not want to respond to her desires.

Which was probably a good thing. Jethro had fallen asleep again in an attempt to pass the time, and he looked so peaceful. She was sorely tempted to cross over to his side and place a kiss to his temple. Even if he woke up, he would hopefully be left to muse as much as she had been.

Her heart fluttered as she watched him sleep. He was an enigma to her, despite her pretending that she understood him completely. He could hide anything from her and read her like a book in return.

Sometimes she felt he didn't know what he wanted from life. Sure, he lived for his job, but there would come a time when he would have to retire and he didn't seem to have anything else to do. He had no family and no significant other. If his job was taken away from him, he would wither and die.

The door opened, waking Jethro. She glanced over at the hazmat suited being that stood in the doorway. There was something in his hand…

"One phone call," the being announced, placing the cell phone on the table between them.

Jenny looked across at Jethro, surprised that he didn't seem surprised. It took her a moment to realize why.

"Who you gonna call?" he grinned.

A slow smile grew on her face. The little rascal! He knew she needed to talk to someone other than him and he had managed to get her a call.

She didn't have to think hard about who to contact. She dialed the number, placed the phone on speaker and waited.

"City morgue: you stab 'em, we slab 'em," came the greeting.

"Abby?" she checked. She was fairly sure she had the right number…

"Director!" the Goth squealed. "Sorry about that, I thought it was Tony and I was just joshing him, but I didn't think it was you – I don't normally answer the phone that way because I'm really professional, although I won't wear that monkey suit in my lab because it's my lab, even though it's in the building you run so in a way it's your lab as well –"

"Breathe," Gibbs ordered.

"Gibbs!" Abby cried. "Aw, how sweet – Mommy and Daddy in a room together. Are you enjoying yourselves? Of course you're not enjoying yourselves, you're in quarantine."

"And you're taking this rather well," Jenny realized.

"Only because Ducky managed to get hold of your blood work and pinky promised me that you two appear to be well," Abby replied. "I wanted to run my own samples, but the CDC are meanies and won't let me near their labs. But they've got some good scientists so I trust them, however much I want to triple check their results."

"How is everyone?" Jenny asked.

"Well." Abby took a deep breath. "Tony's in charge of the team and he's doing okay, sort of. I mean that the cases are being solved but he's annoying everyone. Ziva's gone beyond threatening to kill him and is now writing a list of the numerous ways she could torture him until he dies in serious pain. They've started a prank war, so Timmy's hiding in my lab to avoid the crossfire – say hi, Timmy!"

"Erm, hello boss," came the nervous voice of McGee. "Is everything okay?"

Jenny smiled as Gibbs raised his eyebrows, giving her the role of responding. "Agent Gibbs and myself are fine, Agent McGee," she answered. "Other than the prank war, how is my agency?"

"Acting Director Wofford has stated that she wants a vacation as soon as you return, but other than that, everything is fine," McGee told her.

"FBI causing any problems?" Jenny checked.

"Fornell's been in, but I don't know what that was about," McGee recalled.

"He came in to ask Acting Director Wofford out on a date," Abby piped up. "She told Cynthia who told this guy she's dating in Legal, who told Jenkins in Accounting, who told Palmer who told me."

Jenny smirked as Gibbs tried to follow Abby's chain of people. She suspected the first thing he did when he got out would be to call Tobias and wish him luck.

"You didn't tell me that!" McGee complained.

"I meant to tell you," Abby admitted. "I've been a little busy, what with all the evidence I have to analyze and everything else that's going on here."

"What do you mean by everything else?" Jenny interrupted, concerned.

"Abby's helping both Tony and Ziva with their pranks," McGee confessed.

Jenny glared at Gibbs, silently telling him to deal with the favorite.

"Abs, no Caf-Pow," he ordered. "Stop helping them."

Abby whimpered, but acquiesced. "I'll be good," she promised.

"Is Ducky around?" Jenny inquired, knowing how much Jethro would appreciate it if he could talk to his friend.

"Sorry," Abby commented. "He's in court today or I would have called him upstairs already. But Bert says hi!"

Jenny grinned as the telltale sounds traveled through the phone.

"We're going to have to hang up," she warned. "I'm sure you have a lot of work to do and the doctors are going to take this phone back soon."

"Mean doctors," Abby decided. "They should let you keep the phone."

Jenny smiled sadly. "It's their rules, I'm afraid. We'll be back soon."

"Behave yourselves," Gibbs ordered as they cut the connection.

Jenny smiled at him. "Thank you."

"For what?" he questioned, leaning back on his bed.

"For getting me that call," she replied. "It was a lovely gesture."

He smiled back at her and she felt the tension leave the room.


	12. Day Eleven

Chapter 12: Day Eleven

Jennifer Shepard was glad that they had been able to add another game to their small collection. Once again, Jethro had charmed the doctors into handing them something new.

This time it was a pack of playing cards.

She had initially wondered why they were stopping chess and going onto something else. Then she had remembered just how much mental effort chess was taking. With the AC still refusing to function, it was becoming difficult to focus for long enough to come up with a strategy. Cards required no such effort.

They were a brand new pack as well. She had snatched them from Jethro's hands and sniffed them once he had opened the packet. She had always enjoyed the smell of new cards, and it was something different in the stuffy room. He had smirked at her actions, pretending to try to steal them back but aware of why she was doing it.

The air had cleared between them after the phone call. The second B in his name did not stand for what he claimed it did, not after his actions. There was a softer side to him that few people saw, and she was pleased to have brought it out in him. He had warmed her heart and she doubted she could get mad at him for a while.

She was also trying to work out what she could do to reward him. A bottle of bourbon wasn't enough for his gesture. Whatever she did was going to have to be well thought-out.

"What are we going to play?" she asked, watching his hands as he shuffled the cards expertly.

"Strip poker," he suggested.

"No," she countered.

"We've seen each other before," he pointed out.

She jerked a thumb towards the glass at the head of their beds. "They haven't and I'd rather they didn't."

He nodded slowly. "We don't have any chips," he noted.

She reached for the paper and began tearing it into strips. "I'm sure we can find a way around that," she smirked.

The 'chips' took longer to get ready than she had expected, but she continued to watch him vaguely as he shuffled the cards. With the chessboard placed on the floor, she split the paper and waited while he dealt the cards.

She could still remember the last time they had played poker together. It had been in Paris and although they had had chips, they had chosen not to use them. Back then, strip poker had been far more fun and it had led to more pleasurable activities. All this game of poker was going to lead to was eventual boredom.

She stared at her hand, cursing the fact that he knew her tell. She might as well attempt to play anyway.

Three hands later and several hundred dollars poorer, she decided to call it a day. Chess was definitely the better game at the moment.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not know what to think. And there was no way he could ask Jenny.

They had given up both chess and poker a long time ago. Wondering whether he should demand someone give him the tools to fix the AC, seeing as they seemed to be listening to him for the moment, he had spotted her lack of alertness and suggested that she have another nap.

He hadn't been surprised when she had refused, arguing that she was sleeping enough as it was. But he had countered that it would pass the time and she might want to play another game when she woke up. His feeble idea had been enough for her to agree.

Which showed how tired she was.

He was also tired, but he couldn't sleep any more. He was wide awake after making her so happy and was trying to come up with something else he could do for her. Her delight at the phone call had spurred him on. If he couldn't have her, he could at least make her happy.

And so when she had fallen asleep and he was certain she wasn't going to wake up, he had crept over to her bed and placed a soft kiss to her temple again. He had brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and watched her sleep.

Until his eyes had caught sight of a piece of paper which had been pushed down the back of her bed. It wasn't the best hiding place, but he wondered how long it had been there and why she hadn't tried to get rid of it in a different way.

With her soft breathing calming him, he had reached for the paper and opened it carefully. It had not been what he was expecting.

It was a list of reasons why she should or shouldn't tell him how she felt. He had chuckled at a few of them, especially the idea of it giving the SECNAV a heart attack and her indecision over whether it was a pro or con, but others had been more serious. She didn't want to destroy their friendship.

It had reminded him of why he hadn't told her. He was scared she would never want to talk to him again, leaving him alone. It was ironic that their fears were preventing each other from admitting the truth.

He observed her as she continued to sleep. He wasn't one for words and he had no idea how to broach the subject of their relationship with her. On the one hand, she could decide it was just not going to work out and deny everything. But there was always the chance she would decide to give it a go.

He wanted to talk to Ducky. His old friend would refuse to decide for him, but he would let him vent and work out the best option. He would support him in whatever he did and keep his secrets.

His eyes drew back to the only real positive on her list. _If he feels the same way, we could be happy_.

He did feel the same way and he needed to work out how to tell her.


	13. Day Twelve

_A/N: I know this is going up rather early, but I need to move flats tonight and am about to take my computer apart._

Chapter 13: Day Twelve

Jennifer Shepard was rather impressed with herself. She had managed to come up with a game that required nothing but themselves to play.

Although it did involve communicating with each other. A lot. And while she wasn't brilliantly comfortable with the idea of opening up to someone, she felt safe around Jethro.

It had been a simple idea – Truth or Dare without the dares. Given the room they were in, dares were simply impractical. Telling the truth was something they could do without the need for anything else. There was no real thought involved, which helped when the room seemed hotter than ever.

He had asked her the last question, inquiring about the most embarrassing CD in her collection. She had been forced to admit to owning a Britney Spears album that Abby had bought her once, claiming that it would 'expand her horizons'. Jenny did not think that it had expanded anything except her collection, but she couldn't bring herself to get rid of it. She was already expecting a Brain Matter CD for her next birthday.

And now it was her turn to ask a question. She wasn't sure what to ask. She knew a lot about him already and she didn't want to press certain topics. Nevertheless, she had tried her luck with a question about his childhood and been pleased with the faraway look in his eyes as he had recounted his life long before NCIS and Shannon and Kelly.

"What do you think about your team?" she finally decided.

He raised his eyebrows as he thought. "I think of us as a family," he eventually told her.

"A family?"

"That's two questions," he pointed out.

"You need to expand on 'a family'," she countered. "What do you mean by that?"

He sighed. "Tony's the eldest boy, the one who'll do anything to please his parents. Then there's Ziva, the girl who enjoys causing mayhem and avoiding the consequences as much as possible. McGee's the younger boy, obsessed with computers. And Abby's the favorite, being spoilt by everyone else."

"Is Ducky included in this?" she inquired.

"Ducky's the doting grandfather who keeps an eye on all of us. And in Abby's terms, we're the parents."

She smiled softly at the thought of that. "She does like to call us that," she recalled.

"Well, we keep 'em in line and they do as we tell them," he mused. "They look up to us."

"Not always."

"Most of the time," he argued. "Tony might need a nudge every now and then –"

"Or a headslap," she corrected.

"– But he knows his place," he continued. "They look out for each other and help out when they need to. They don't always need us around, but we still guide them."

She continued to smile. It was probably the most he'd spoken in a long while, and it was nice to know how fond he was of his team.

She could only hope he would ask her such a nice question in return. She had wanted to know his feelings for his team, but she was afraid of the question he would ask her.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs continued to smile as he thought of his team. He missed them, strange as it seemed. He missed Tony being an idiot, Ziva's threats to her partner's health, McGee tapping away at his keyboard throughout the arguments, Abby's hugs and sheer delight at everything, and Ducky's wealth of experience.

The game they were playing was amusing. He was learning more about Jenny and she about him. He certainly found it hard to open up, but she was deliberately avoiding sore topics and seemed to genuinely want to know more. He wasn't about to refuse her.

It was nice for them to talk, just talk about anything that wasn't a case or paperwork. They hadn't done that for a long time, instead allowing their jobs to keep them apart. Now he was catching up on what he had missed in her life, and learning new things about her at the same time.

He'd never known that she hated casseroles because they reminded her of the aftermath of her mother's death when her neighbors had brought the dish over for a few weeks. He had chuckled when he had learnt of her rebellious exploits as a teenager. He had been surprised to learn that she had dyed her hair blonde for a summer at college.

And he had answered in kind, telling her things that DiNozzo would love to know about. He had talked about why he had joined the Marines, the first time he had met Fornell and the last movie he'd seen. His childhood had come up more than a few times.

Which was what had given him the idea for his next question.

"What were your childhood aspirations?" he asked.

"Long word for you," she teased.

He smirked at her as she settled down and tried to recall.

"I wanted to be independent," she commented. "I wanted to have a nice job somewhere and I was going to break the glass ceiling."

"I think you did," he noted.

She smiled. "I didn't mind where I would end up working, just as long as I could excel. I wasn't going to end up in a dead-end job with a boring boss."

"You have a boring boss," he pointed out, grinning.

She giggled. "At least he doesn't sit over me all day and make passes at me."

"You could always tell his wife if he did," he mused.

"I wanted a husband," she admitted. "I always thought I'd get married."

"Why didn't you?" he questioned.

She looked at him for a moment, and he wondered if he'd stepped over an invisible boundary. It wasn't part of the original question and she could always refuse to answer it.

"I found the perfect man," she confessed.

"What happened?"

"I let him slip through my fingers," she recalled.

He decided that he was going to hunt his man down and kill him. What kind of idiot let someone like Jen slip through his fingers? The look on her face indicated that she didn't want to talk about it anymore so he decided to change the subject.

"Your turn," he informed her.


	14. Day Thirteen

Chapter 14: Day Thirteen

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was amazed that they had been able to continue their truth-telling game for a whole day without wanting to kill the other. And it was still going strong.

Despite having to talk and open up to someone, he was enjoying himself. It wasn't as painful as he had feared it would be and he felt closer to Jenny than he had in years.

Even if they had to avoid certain topics. He had not asked about Paris and she was not asking about certain topics. They only had two days left and no matter how much they were having fun, he didn't want to spoil everything. They didn't have anywhere to run if the mood turned sour again.

He was sitting on her bed after she had patted the sheets next to her and smiled softly. Although they had been close because of the size of the room, it was better to be sitting next to her and see her face. He was leaning against the window at the head of the bed, his legs tangled with hers as she sat at the other end. It was comfortable and pleasant.

He had missed human contact in this place. For the past twelve days, the most contact he'd had with anyone – excluding the odd kisses to Jenny's temple when she was asleep and once not so asleep – was when someone had a needle in his arm. It was odd how much he had missed headslapping DiNozzo and the hugs he received from Abby.

For now, he was content to be close to Jenny. The secrets and memories they were sharing were making them feel close in a different way, and it felt more intimate when they were this close. When she had been recalling an older memory, she had slipped her hand into his and he had comforted her as best he could.

It was her turn for a question and he was getting nervous over how long it was taking her to ask. From the look in her eyes, she knew what she wanted to say but she was trying to find the courage to speak up.

"Why did you kiss me?" she finally asked, looking him dead in the eye.

He resisted the urge to wince. She had turned it serious. He should have guessed she would do that after a while. At least he knew what his next question would be then.

"I thought you were asleep," he answered honestly, not willing to go into details.

"Is that all?" she inquired, looking hurt.

He stared at her for a moment. "You looked… adorable and I couldn't resist."

"I do not look adorable when I sleep," she growled.

He smirked. "You do," he countered. "I wanted you to have sweet dreams and I thought you were asleep." He was aware that he was repeating himself, but he wanted to make his point.

"There was nothing else to it?" she checked.

He chose not to answer. He would prefer not to have this discussion when any number of people could be watching behind the mirror.

Hopefully she would understand.

* * *

Jennifer Shepard was fuming. He had deliberately evaded her question, and she was not cute when she slept.

She had asked the question in the vague hope that he would tell her how he felt about her. She knew she had been sticking her neck out a little bit but she had felt it was worth the risk. He was sitting on her bed, his legs entwined with hers and he had even held her hand earlier. She had thought they were finally on the same page.

It was clear that they weren't even in the same book. She should have known it was too good to be true. Jethro Gibbs never talked about his feelings.

And to top it all off, she knew exactly what he was going to ask in return. She had opened the door by bringing up something so serious and he would not want to miss the opportunity. She wasn't going to lie to him, which only made it worse. It could only end in an intense argument.

Gritting her teeth, she nodded to him to indicate her readiness. He immediately pounced.

"Why did you leave me in Paris?"

Quelle surprise. She briefly wondered if she would win a prize for knowing his question. The only prize she could think of was having to admit the truth to him.

"Do you think that was easy for me to do?" She answered his question with a question of her own. "Do you think I didn't think about it for weeks?"

He cocked his head to one side, warning her without words that she wasn't answering his question.

"I made a mistake," she admitted. "I thought I had the choice of either you or my career. I thought the pain would be temporary and I could move on. I thought I was doing what was best for me."

He looked as though he wanted to say something but she cut him off.

"You wanted me to answer, now I'm answering," she warned him. She paused for a moment, gathering her strength. "When I realized my mistake, I called Ducky to ask him where you were. Imagine my surprise when he told me that you were engaged to Stephanie. Clearly I didn't matter to you as much as I thought I had."

"If you'd asked me to come back, I would have done so in a heartbeat," he retorted, not willing to remain silent for any longer. "I didn't know you'd spoken to Ducky. I don't know what happened with Stephanie; one minute she was offering me support and the next we were married and in Russia."

She glared at him but he didn't back down. The room fell into silence. She turned her gaze to the cotton sheets she was sitting on and forced herself to calm down. This was not the time to argue.

Finally, she looked up to see him watching her silently.

"And now?" she asked. "If I said I want you back?"

He didn't answer. Not in words. But he leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It didn't take her long to respond.


	15. Day Fourteen

Chapter 15: Day Fourteen

Jennifer Shepard was frustrated. It was their last day in quarantine and all she wanted to do was escape.

They were back to sitting on separate beds again, but only because it was more frustrating to sit together and not be able to touch. If the window hadn't been in place, she suspected they would have blocked the door and thrown caution to the wind. After so much time apart, it was hard to wait a little longer until they were allowed to go home.

The doctors had already come back to take their final blood samples. Jethro had moved to her side the moment the door was open and had held her hand throughout. It had made her feel a lot more comfortable about the needle in her arm, and she had chosen to ignore the grins on the faces of the doctors.

Mainly because Gibbs had glared at all of them, daring them to say something so he could bite off their heads and give him the opportunity to demand a private room somewhere.

She was fairly sure that she didn't have anything and assumed that the blood tests were to confirm that. She didn't know what she would do if the doctors told her she would have to remain in quarantine for any longer. She was already counting down the hours until she and Jethro could go somewhere more private.

And her agency could wait a little while longer.

She had never thought that the final hours would be the longest. Nor had she dreamed that this experience would bring her and Jethro closer together. Her initial assumption was that she would end up killing him before the end of the first week. They had been arguing too much for anything else, and being cooped up together was not the best idea.

Her thoughts turned to her 'family' as Gibbs had called them. She hoped they were okay, regardless of the phone conversation she had managed to have with Abby. Pranks wars had a habit of spiraling out of control and it didn't help that Gibbs wasn't around to keep an eye on things. She was a little worried that their first day back would involve sorting out all of the problems his team had caused in their absence.

Still, she felt she could do anything with Jethro by her side. And Tony would have to be on his best behavior now that the 'parents' had joined forces. Ziva would be happy for them, while McGee would not mind. And Abby would continue to be spoilt rotten and would probably scream the building down if she realized the changes that were taking place.

Making a mental note to buy earplugs for when Abby worked it all out, she glanced over at Jethro again. He was leaning against the wall behind his bed and staring at the floor. She smiled softly as she admired him.

Not long to go now…

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was very tempted to use the intercom to demand they were moved to another room. They weren't ill, there were no symptoms and thus they didn't need to be observed for any longer.

There was no way he and Jenny were going to catch up on lost time with a bunch of doctors watching their every move. The doctors were probably teenage hormonal idiots who would salivate over everything. Jenny deserved better.

Even if she was tempting him by refusing to stop staring at him. With the AC still refusing to work, she had also rolled up her scrubs, exposing her long legs to him. The only thing he could safely stare at was the floor.

He wasn't sure whether he was going to die of boredom or end up trying to figure out a way to block the window before he was allowed to leave. He didn't think he could listen to her voice without going crazy. They had nothing really to talk about anyway, beyond a pressing desire to get out of this room.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jenny shift slightly on her bed.

Two hours… They had two hours before they could leave. He was hoping that they wouldn't have to undergo a medical checkup before they were sprung, or if anyone would come to meet them. He had a horrible feeling that Ducky would turn up. He didn't want to talk to anyone when he simply wanted to drag Jenny somewhere quiet.

Although perhaps Ducky would understand. He had always tutted when Gibbs mentioned another fight with Jenny, and had often hinted that they needed to talk more. Ducky was too much of a gentleman to say anything else on the matter, and Gibbs had been ignoring his hints for a long while.

His eyes alighted on the pack of playing cards on the table. They had pushed the table away once they had started playing the truth-telling game, preferring the slight space it gave them between the beds. Maybe it was time to go back to the other games for a little while.

Jenny looked up as he pulled the table across the room.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, although he could hear a twinkle of curiosity in her tone.

"Poker," he suggested. "Still got those 'chips'?"

As he reached for the cards and began shuffling them, she reached for the 'chips' she had made the last time they had played. He smiled slightly at the feel of the cards passing through his fingers.

"Can I deal?" she asked.

He nodded, unwillingly to turn her down. He was normally the dealer and he tended to lose when he wasn't, mainly because he was so unused to it. But if she wanted it, she could have it.

She shuffled the cards again and began to deal. "Maybe you'd prefer strip poker," she teased.

He looked her up and down. "Maybe later," he grinned.


	16. Epilogue

Chapter 16: Epilogue

Leroy Jethro Gibbs waited for the elevator to reach its requested floor. He was sorely tempted to flick the emergency stop and spend a little while longer with the woman beside him.

Unfortunately, Jenny had warned him that she needed to do some work today and she would reward him later if he could behave himself. He had decided that behaving himself for the moment would be the best option.

Especially as he was sure she would crack first and he would be able to tease her over it.

The elevator doors opened and he walked into the squad room. It was still intact, which was better than he had expected after a phone call from Ducky the night before. His agents were going to be in serious trouble when he found them.

They were sitting at their desks, acting as though nothing had happened in his absence. He hid a smirk, knowing better. As he passed DiNozzo…

"Ouch!" Tony was out of his chair in an instant. "Hey, boss. Director."

Jenny nodded at Tony as Gibbs found his chair.

"What was that for, boss?" Tony demanded.

Gibbs glared at him. "You know what."

His senior field agent winced. "It was Ziva's fault as well."

"He started it," the Israeli snapped.

"And I'm ending it," he warned.

Jenny smiled at him. "I need to get to my office," she noted.

He watched as she headed for the stairs. He was about to get up and follow her when Abby barreled into the squad room.

"Gibbs!" she squealed, launching herself at him.

"Hey, Abs," he managed to get out as she tried to squeeze the life out of him.

"I missed you so much," she told him, releasing him from her death grip. "Everyone missed you, but I missed you more than most."

DiNozzo muttered something under his breath about not missing the boss, but Gibbs chose to ignore it.

"So, did Mommy and Daddy have a fun time on vacation?" Abby inquired, her eyes sparkling.

Gibbs let his gaze drift up to the catwalk where Jenny stood. Although it hadn't been a vacation, it had certainly done them the world of good…

THE END


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